


Good Morning

by abkvs



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Married Couple, Oral Sex, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 17:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abkvs/pseuds/abkvs
Summary: Jonas is needy. Mitch is still asleep. Jonas deals with it. Things work out.





	Good Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Written in about an hour while at my second job, waiting for students to tutor. Spoiler, it's been an empty house today. Was not beta'd. (Ok hand emoji).

At 7:32 am on a sunny Friday morning, Jonas Mueller woke up from an absolutely scandalous wet dream with a gasp that was almost, _almost_ a moan. The covers had been mostly pulled off of his body by his husband's notably taller frame, and he was shivering just a bit as a result. He nudged at him and worked the comforter out from between Mitch's knees just enough to cover almost all of his body, eventually huffing and plopping himself back down underneath, resigned to his slightly less than ideally heated fate. Still, despite the tickling of the AC, which had kicked on about a half hour ago, Jonas still felt warm. That dream… Oh god.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he leaned into Mitch's warm chest, trying hard to even out his jittery breathing. It was—it was good. Fading fast, now that he was awake, but good. And, if he was being honest… not entirely out of the realm of possibility, which made it torment him all the more.

Still mostly asleep, Mitch wrapped his arm around Jonas's midsection and pulled him in, and it was about when his crotch knocked against Mitch's hip that Jonas realized—he was hard. And worse than that, _sensitive._ Oh no.

This might not have been a problem if Mitch wasn't wrapped around him like the world's most comfortable vice; he could have gone to the bathroom and fixed the problem in the shower, but no. No, he was stuck here, and trying to worm his way out of Mitch's grasp was a losing battle where the punishment was rubbing his dick on Mitch's body and oh man, this was bad.

But kind of good?

Jonas whimpered an airy gasp out against Mitch's chest as the muscles in his lower body flexed and tensed in equal time, desperate for some kind of stimulation. His thumb smoothed out over Mitch's skin as he tried to decide whether to hold him or force his hand down between their bodies and jerk himself off right then and there.

It was in the midst of this indecisive squirming that Jonas realized one very, very alarming fact: Mitch hadn't worn anything to bed that night. He was naked. His dick was _right there._ It was pressed against Jonas's thigh.

_God dangit._

Jonas whimpered again, his mouth open in a tiny O as his hot breath condensed on Mitch's skin. He couldn't stop thinking about that dream… God, that dream... He remembered so little and yet so much. He remembered feeling so _used up_ and blissed out and he remembered Mitch, over him, on top of him, the only thing in his world… It wasn't too far off from his reality. Just, in his dream, there might have been two Mitches. Oh boy. Okay, so maybe the dream was a little unrealistic after all. Still, one Mitch was overwhelming enough for his real, definitely very human and thus very limited body.

This was not helping.

"Miiiitch," he whined, voice a pitchy whisper as he wriggled his wide hips. He huffed. Mitch's grip loosened. Now he had a choice to make. Bathroom, or…

To heck with it.

Jonas scooted down enough to let his face rest by Mitch's crotch, his soft cock not even an inch from his now-drooling mouth. He nuzzled against Mitch's curly pubes as he slid his hand into his underwear and pulled his hard-on away from the wet spot it had made. Was this weird? It might be weird, he thought, but he had known Mitch long enough by now to know that Mitch was kinda into weird. He had only given himself a few trembling strokes before he felt the weight of a heavy hand in his hair.

"Good morning to you too, babe," came his husband's voice.

Gravelly and tired as it was, it filled Jonas with delight. In lieu of responding, Jonas pressed his lips against the base of Mitch's cock and whined.

Mitch's hand became heavier on his head. "Not a bad thing t'wake up to," he hummed.

That little bit of pressure made Jonas moan again, louder this time. His breathing was unsteady and trembling as he played with himself, thoroughly enjoying the weight and heat of Mitch's steadily growing erection against his freckled cheek. Mitch was pressing against him from both sides now, sandwiching his face between his hand and his groin, and Jonas was in heaven.

He drooled against Mitch's cock, his trembling lips eager and hungry. He could feel phantom pressure against the back of his throat, his body aching to be reminded of every sensation that came with sucking off his husband.

He couldn't make it slow. There was no tolerance for foreplay left in his needy body. Jonas took Mitch's cock into his mouth in one swift motion, sucking it down eagerly until— _God, yes, there_ —the thick head was pressing against the back of his throat.

Jonas, to his pride, was damn good at this by now. For as good as it felt to have Mitch plowing into him from behind, he loved having him in his mouth so much more. It was naughty and nasty and yet so, so tender in its own dirty ways; it took love and care to be throatfucked as often as Jonas demanded to be and come out of it with a spotless no-teeth record.

With one arm pinned uselessly underneath him and the other one in his underwear, Jonas had nothing to help him get Mitch off but his mouth—but that was all he needed. He groaned around Mitch's thick (delicious) shaft, bobbing his head on it and lavishing the thing with his tongue until all of it was wet and slick.

What he really wanted was for Mitch to mount his face and ravage him like a wild animal, but that was more likely to happen some other time—perhaps that afternoon, when Mitch was more awake and such a request would be more reasonable, he thought.

He groaned against Mitch's warm skin as he worked his cock back against his throat, which opened up with somewhat marvelous ease to accept what was left to take.

"God—fuck, babe," Mitch grunted above him, his body tensing as Jonas worked him over. A few years ago, those words might have worried Jonas that he was going too far or doing something wrong, but not anymore. No, he knew better, knew to listen to the tone of his voice and the clutching of his fingertips. Mitch was as blissed out as he was. And Jonas? Jonas wanted him to cum down his throat.

Not much later, he got his wish.

Jonas felt Mitch's body tighten and heard his breath catch while he was taking a moment to suckle at the very tip of his cock, and in an instant he had plunged back down on it like a hungry animal, just in time for Mitch to grant his unspoken wish. He pulled back slowly as Mitch came, letting his cum trail from the back of his throat to the tip of his tongue. He swallowed. He always swallowed.

As Mitch began to soften against his cheek, Jonas gave himself the last few strokes he needed to cum in his underwear. (It was fine; he was planning on doing laundry today anyways.) He gave himself a minute to breathe through the high, then pulled his underwear off and tossed them haphazardly behind him, onto the floor. Then, he pulled himself up Mitch's body and planted an absolutely lascivious kiss on his lips. It was deep and wet and both of them savored it despite the distinct unpleasantness of the flavor. Mitch's mouth tasted like sleep, but that was fine; it was only fair, since Jonas's mouth tasted like sleep _and_ cum. (Though Mitch may argue that that was not a bad taste at all, thank you, and do that wiggly thing with his eyebrows that always made Jonas giggle.)

"So," Mitch said in a voice that was hazy enough to be kind of sexy, "If I fall back asleep right now, you gonna wake me up like that again?"

Jonas hummed contently to himself as Mitch's arm squeezed once more around his midsection. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe."

Within minutes, they were both sound asleep again, limbs tangled messily together, the blanket they had shared forgotten somewhere between the bed and the wall.


End file.
